


Satisfaction Guaranteed

by storms65



Category: JAG (TV 1995)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 21:46:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21309106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storms65/pseuds/storms65
Summary: Mac does a little comparison shopping.
Relationships: Sarah MacKenzie/Harmon Rabb Jr.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Satisfaction Guaranteed

Satisfaction Guaranteed

A (short) story by minimindbender

A/N: Written because my children were both blessedly asleep and I felt like making fun of Mic.

Mac sat in her office, gazing out the door, her eyes drawn to her partner's cute, tight six. He was leaning forward, hands resting on Harriet's desk as she looked up something for him on the computer. His summer whites did nothing to hide his toned physique, and she found her mouth watering, wondering what it would be like to bite that perfect ass of his. A frustrated moan escaped her lips, and she covered her mouth in embarrassment.

Mac sighed. She'd ended things with her semi-fiancé Mic Brumby two weeks ago. She had noticed that Harm seemed a lot happier now, brighter, since hearing the news, even asked her to dinner at his place last Saturday, but to her chagrin, he didn't make any move on her.

Of course she knew Harm was way too honorable to make a move on her with her breakup so recent, but it didn't stop her from hoping.

Harm finally stood up from Harriet's desk and turned around. His eyes immediately sought out hers as if he could feel her stare, and he smiled. Mac's tummy flipped over and she found herself shifting in her chair restlessly, trying to ignore the ache between her thighs. What is wrong with me? she thought to herself. She answered herself quickly. She was horny.

Really, really horny.

And why, you ask? She'd had plenty of sex. Mic never seemed to have a problem getting excited, and she indulged him. She supposed she'd been hoping that eventually the sex would get better if they practiced, but alas, it was not to be. Now, she didn't dump Mic because of the sex; she'd dumped him because he was a pompous, possessive ass, but the sex was the cherry on top of that break up sundae.

How to describe Brumby's performance in the bedroom…

Clumsy…

Awkward…

Sloppy…

Wet…

And wet wasn't a reference to her…

To put it nicely, Mic slobbered like a St Bernard. With every kiss, he slobbered, slurped, and soaked her skin in his enthusiasm. His tongue, instead of dancing with hers, lapped and licked at her face, and she'd never forget the night she'd told him she wasn't a frigging ice cream cone. He'd pouted for a week. She took that time to wash all of her bedding, sure the spit had to have flown everywhere. She'd even scrubbed down her bed frame, thinking that spittle couldn't be good for the finish.

And then there was the sex itself…

He only wanted it one way: her on top. At first she thought he was just lazy, but the way he bucked under her dispelled that theory. God bless him, he worked really hard, but the whole thing reminded her of going over the potholes left after a harsh winter. Or maybe it was more like riding a mechanical bull with a short in it. Either way, he bounced her around like a paddle ball, all while reaching up and pulling at her breasts as if he expected them to detach.

Reminiscing about the tender love given to her by Mic (ha!) made her think about all her other lovers.

Dalton was adequate, if a bit boring, and she always got the feeling he expected her to put out after an expensive dinner or after giving her expensive pearls.

John Farrow was skilled, and she did love him, but something left her cold. It was probably the knowledge that what they were doing was wrong. He was more powerful than her given his much higher rank, making them completely unequal partners.

Chris Ragle…frankly, she didn't remember much about him. She felt the twinge of regret she always felt when thinking about her drunken past, and quickly brushed thoughts of Chris aside.

As was often the case, whenever she thought of her past lovers, she started musing about how the other men she knew would be as lovers.

There was Bud…he would be sweet, maybe a little clumsy, but he could be taught, if how he'd blossomed as a lawyer under her and Harm's tutelage was any indication.

Gunny passed by her door then, and her mouth quirked up into a smile…if she were enlisted…yeah, he was pretty tasty.

Tiner…oh, ew. He was a sweet kid, she liked him a lot, and he was certainly of legal age, but she'd always thought of him as mental jailbait.

Now the admiral…she was sure that under his gruff exterior, the intense former SEAL was a kind man and his loving would be sweet and gentle. And, well, good. Mac blushed a little at the thought.

Who else? Ah, yes. Clayton Webb. The spook. She didn't think he would be a bad lover, per se, but she expected he wouldn't want things messy and it was sure to be the most sterile sex anyone could ever have.

These thoughts brought her to Harm. Harm. Harmon. Commander Rabb. Oh god, he'd be delicious. He'd make sure she was pleasured before thinking about his own. He'd have her flying like one of his precious Tomcat's…he'd probably even make her meow like one. Mac closed her eyes and her hand drifted under the desk…oh, lord, she couldn't do that here…

She yanked her hand away from her skirt, banging it on her desk as she pulled it out from under it.

"Dammit!" she cursed, shaking her hand to minimize the ache of it.

"You okay, Mac?"

The sound of Harm's voice startled her, and she jumped, this time banging her knees on the desk. "Ow!" she yelped.

"Jeez, Mac. Stop beating yourself up! Let me help." He moved behind the desk and grabbed the back of her chair to slide it out from underneath the abusive furniture. He spun her around to face him, and she found her eyes staring straight at his crotch. His navy issue boxers couldn't conceal the evidence that Harmon Rabb, Jr was well endowed, and Mac caught herself slowly licking her lips.

"Mac?"

"Yeah?" she said, absently. Maybe she could bite him in the front instead of the back...

"Mac?"

"What?" She found herself leaning forward, her arms twitching as she imagined wrapping them around him to cup his sexy six.

"Mac!"

Mac jumped again. "What, Harm?" she asked, irritated that he was interrupting her not-so-wholesome thoughts. She finally looked up at his face.

Harm was blushing. Oh, for goodness sake, could the man be any more adorable? And luscious? "I'm sorry, what did you need, Harm?"

Me naked on a platter? Me swinging from your rafters? Me sucking on…dammit, MacKenzie! Get it together!

Harm's blush deepened. "Um, I was wondering if you'd like to come over to my place for dinner tonight? If you don't already have plans?"

No need to ask twice. "I have no plans. I'd love to come." And come, and come, and come…

"Great!" Harm looked relieved, and rather pleased, she thought. "Are you ready now?" he asked, licking his own lips.

Of course, I am.

"Yeah, Harm, let me just grab…" God, what was the word…your ass? Your…manhood?" It suddenly came to her.

"My coat! Yeah, my coat. I'm—it's getting wet…out there…" She opened her desk drawer and started rummaging through it. Where was the damn thing?!

"Um, Mac…I think your coat is over there." He pointed to the coat hung on a hook on her wall.

"Oh! How silly of me!" She slammed the drawer shut.

She jumped up and grabbed her coat off the hook, nearly taking the hook off the wall. She shrugged it on and headed for the door.

She felt Harm's hands grasp her arms from behind and his gentle tug as he turned her around to face him again. "Seriously, Mac? Are you okay? You're distracted. I know your break up with Mic has to have been h-hard." He swallowed.

Hard…he said, "Hard!" Jesus! Is he trying to kill me?"

"Um, I'm okay with all that. And I'm fine, Harm. Really, really fine."

"If you're sure…but Mac, if you need anything, and I mean, anything, call me, okay? I mean if you want me to, um, fix your plumbing, or want me to take you for a ride, or need some, uh, man work done…I mean, I'm sure Mic took care of…your needs…ah, didn't he?"

Mac fixed him with an amused stare, one eyebrow raised. "Mic wasn't the handiest guy, Harm."

She delighted in the way his eyes widened and his face pinked up with another blush.

"Oh, well, call me…I'll come…with you, for you, okay?"

"Okay, Harm, I will." The two stood there gazing at each other, Harm with his briefcase and cover held in front of him, until Mac spoke again.

"Actually, Harm…there is something you can do for me…"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. I need some help comparing things." She smiled at him innocently.

"Oh yeah," he said again. "Like what?"

She glanced down for a moment, wishing he'd move that damn briefcase out of the way so she could see his—

"Mac? Like what?"

"Um, tools…" she murmured.

"Tools?"

"Yeah, tools," she said with more strength.

Harm gulped. "What, uh, kind of tools?"

"Um…rods."

"Rods?"

"Yeah. And, um, screw…drivers."

"Screwdrivers?"

She nodded. "Uh huh. And, uh, hammers…"

Harm suddenly grew cocky. "You wanna see which one pounds the best?"

"Oh, yessss," Mac moaned.

"Then let's go."

With that, they took off toward the elevators, relieved to be the only passengers. He was on her as soon as the doors shut, and it was immediately clear that this experience would be nothing like any of her past sexual encounters. Especially when Harm reaches out and hit the button to halt the elevator.

They only managed to try one "tool" that night. They didn't need to try any more. And they never tried another one again. This one came with a lifetime warranty, and, like a Cracker Jack box, it came with a ring.

It was safe to say that Mac was a satisfied customer.

End


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